Unnatural instinct
by Terfle
Summary: Set during 'Death by Miss Adventure'. Stuck in a jail cell, Jack tells Mac something he's never told anyone. Slash warning


Jack took the time to sit with Mac after her best friend had left. He had suspected but had given it no thought, Doctor Mac's private life was of no concern to him. But on her confession, his thoughts went into overdrive. He was reminded of something that he had never told anyone. Mac was on the verge of tears. It was discomforting to see her so vulnerable. Wiping her face with her sleeve, she waited on his condemnation nonetheless. It never came.

'I don't know how it is exactly' he started, choosing his words with care. 'But it doesn't change a thing. Nobody thinks any less of you.'

'What do you mean, exactly?'

'Well I don't know how you feel. I've never really been in that situation.'

'Never really been? What would _you_ know about it?' She was becoming agitated, like a bird trapped in a net, hands shaking and eyes darting. She seemed ready to get up and pace. He took a risk and took her roughened hands in his, encircling her in his warmth. It halted her and soothed her. Nevertheless it felt like he was doing a bad job explaining. He was getting muddled.

'Tell me what you mean.' She insisted.

He felt his heart drop, felt a bit dizzy. He'd never told anyone. But of all the people, he had to tell her. She'd understand. Hoping that no one was in hearing range, he lowered his voice.

'I don't know what it's like to live the way you do, exactly. But I do know what it's like to keep something like this a secret.'

His sombre tone alerted her to the realisation that Detective Inspector Robinson was giving her a confession. She froze, hands still clasped in his.

He made the decision to put his heart on the line.

'I've told no one this. Especially not Rosie. She would have divorced me much quicker and would have ruined my reputation mercilessly.'

Mac could well believe it. Rosie was a ruthless bitch. She must have been different when Jack had married her because she couldn't stand to think that the respectful, courteous and kind Inspector let that woman manipulate him. She refrained from saying so, just waited to hear him out.

'So many things that happened in the war that you wouldn't believe anyone would do in everyday life.' His gaze was trained on the wall opposite, lost in his recollection. 'Among other things, I did something I'm not proud of, nor am I exactly ashamed of. I used to be. I used to wish that I had died in that trench. Now that I've made the acquaintance of Miss Fisher, I can see that the world is made up of all sorts.'

Mac had a sudden inkling of what this was about. She could hardly believe it. She leaned forward and inched closer, closer to a man that she'd been for a long time.

'Did you love…this person?'

She knew she had to be careful, anyone could be listening. They kept their voices down.

'No. Which is why I can't exactly understand how it is for you. But I do understand how it feels. To be intimate with someone…in that way. And I know how you feel, like you need to keep it to yourself.'

'Did he survive?' This…acquaintance?' She corrected herself. He turned to look at her, desolation deep in his eyes. 'I have no idea. I didn't see him again after a while. That could have meant anything. I hope he's alive and well with a family of his own. I have no way of knowing.'

He didn't want to think of this man trapped dying under the mud. It was too cruel an end.

'He was a good man but it wasn't for me. I had a wife back home. But I admit that we shared…moments together. Nothing too intimate. But enough to take the edge off the longing to go home and forget about all the madness around us. Sometimes I think it wouldn't have made a difference that we stopped at a certain point because if I'd known how much I'd changed when I came back and how much the marriage floundered after that, we could have said to hell with it anyway.'

They both knew that he couldn't have done that. There was only so much shame a man could handle before he broke.

He couldn't have expressed how it had felt, to kiss a man. It seemed wrong and yet somewhat comforting. There was no telling who had made the first move and he wondered why he hadn't pulled away and decked him. Was it the unexpected warmth of the hands and shoulders, the ones he'd cleaned the blood off and bandaged up the superficial wound? Was it the long-forgotten caress of the chest? He didn't know. He couldn't think of his wife at that point, he just lost himself to the long slow moment. It was the first and only kiss of that sort in his life and it had made him doubt himself. He'd never felt the same over any man since. He knew now it had been a one off but he had been terrified back then that it wasn't. He had committed a dreadful sin and he waited tensely to see if it would catch up with him and expose his dirty soul. Nothing had happened. Rosie had known that there were lots of things wrong with him the moment she saw him but he could never make her understand what had happened in his years away. The shells, the rattles, the screams and the mud all blurred together with his shameful tears. She had been disgusted with him anyway by the end of it but this was something that he couldn't, under any circumstances have told her. He couldn't explain it himself. It would never happen again and it should never have happened if it wasn't for that war.

As he falteringly explained, she kept the clasp on his hands, his head now resting on them as though he was begging her forgiveness in telling her something about himself. If he wanted to tell Phryne, it wasn't up to Elizabeth MacMillan to broadcast his story. His shame had taken a back seat and he no longer felt engulfed in the flames but it was something he had to guard at all costs. He finally looked up at her and felt relief, basked in the light cascading around her from that tiny window. She looked more serene than she had since her accusation. She understood. He knew that his secret was safe with her.


End file.
